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THE<br/>
<span class=large>SONG OF SOLOMON</span>
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CHAPTER 2
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Beloved ones are praised and described.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;1 
<span class='smallcaps'>I <i>am</i></span> the rose of Sharon, <i>and</i> the lily of the valleys.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;2 
As the lily among thorns, so <i>is</i> my love among the daughters.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;3 
As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so <i>is</i> my beloved among the sons.  I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit <i>was</i> sweet to my taste.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;4 
He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me <i>was</i> love.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;5 
Stay me with flagons, <sup>a</sup><a href="song/2/5a" mark="a" type="D" title="IE refresh me.">comfort</a> me with apples: for I <i>am</i> sick of love.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;6 
His left hand <i>is</i> under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;7 
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake <i>my</i> love, till he please.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;8 
&#182; The voice of my beloved!  behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;9 
My beloved is like a roe or a young <sup>a</sup><a href="song/2/9a" mark="a" type="D" title="OR gazelle, fawn.">hart</a>: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;10 
My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;11 
For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over <i>and</i> gone;
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&nbsp;&nbsp;12 
The <sup>a</sup><a href="song/2/12a" mark="a" type="B" title="TG Nature.">flowers</a> appear on the earth; the time of the singing <i>of birds</i> is come, and the voice of the <sup>b</sup><a href="song/2/12b" mark="b" type="E" title="IE turtle-dove; Jer. 8: 7.">turtle</a> is heard in our land;
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&nbsp;&nbsp;13 
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines <i>with</i> the tender grape give a <i>good</i> smell.  Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;14 
&#182; O my dove, <i>that art</i> in the clefts of the rock, in the secret <i>places</i> of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet <i>is</i> thy voice, and thy countenance <i>is</i> comely.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;15 
Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines <i>have</i> tender grapes.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;16 
&#182; My beloved <i>is</i> mine, and I <i>am</i> his: he feedeth among the lilies.
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&nbsp;&nbsp;17 
Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
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